Chasing Anne

Everything's On The Line

Anne had no idea where she was, or why she was there. Her calf throbbed with pain and her head pounded with every beat of her heart. She moaned and tried to open her eyes, but the image that she saw around her was foggy. Everything was blurry. There was a light above her, she knew that at least, but everything else was indecipherable She closed her eyes and waited a moment, trying to let her vision clear. The next time she opened her eyes, the image before her was a bit more distinct. She was in a dark room lying on some sort of cot. Her head was on a pillow and she was covered with sheets. She tried to sit up, but her head wouldn't let her. It pulsed with pain every time she tried to move it. She decided that moving it was out of the question and settled for looking around some more. She located an open closet, but there were scarcely any clothes in it. There was an old vanity, but the mirror was stained and dirty. Another door which Anne presumed was a bathroom stood to her left. There was another door, but she could tell that it was bolted on the other side. She closed her eyes and lay still a moment, trying to figure out what she was doing here. Rolling onto her side, she tried once again to sit up and was relieved to see that she was able to without a lot of pain. She stood to her feet and limped over to the closet. Her clothes were muddy and, near her calf where a neat bullet hole was, blood had drenched her pantleg. She slipped out of her clothes and settled for a pair of black jeans and a red blouse. Once she was dressed, she ambled over to what she though was the bathroom and flipped on the lights. It was a bathroom, but besides a shower head, a sink, and a toilet, it was empty. There were no towels, no soap...nothing. Anne glanced in the mirror and felt her face, rubbing her eyes. She looked all right, but she could really use a brush or at least a comb. She tried to brush her hair with her fingers, but it helped little. With a painful groan, she went over to her the bed and sat down, looking down at her injured calf. The wound had been treated and stitched closed, but it still throbbed. She laid back down on the bed and pulled the covers over her head. Where was she?

And then the locked door opened and Anne was forced to stand again. But as soon as she saw who it was that was standing on the other side of the door, walking into the room with two guards, she froze, her eyes going wide with terror. Raymond Parr stood with his hands folded behind his back and his face stern. Everything flooded back to Anne's mind and the moment she realized just what Raymond had done, her face turned red with rage. Raymond motioned with his hand for the two guards to leave and then closed the door after them. He smiled gently and actually showed a little sincerity.

"That's a first," Anne thought.

"Good morning, Anne. Are you feeling all right?"

Anne rolled her eyes and winced. "No, no I'm not."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'll send a medic up here as soon as I can."

"I don't want your help," Anne mumbled, shivering.

Raymond smiled. "But you need it," he said, walking over to her. He rested his hand on her forehead and pressed slightly. "You're awfully hot," he mumbled. "I guess the April storm really did take its toll on people."

Anne pushed him away. "Please, don't touch me."

Raymond smiled. "Oh, right of course. You are already engaged."

"I'm not," Anne mumbled. "Thanks to you."

"The episode on the cliff was necessary. I had to get you away from Mark somehow."

"You could have killed him!"

"And if I had I wouldn't regret it."

"How cruel can you be, Ray?"

Raymond laughed. "You haven't called me that in three years, you know."

Anne tried not to blush at herself. "It's what I always used to call you, Raymond."